An AU for An AU
by MereStories
Summary: Summer is just a normal fangirl obsessed with the fictional show, Supernatural. But then she finds herself in a whole different universe where that fictional show ain't all that fictional after all. Confused? Read on to find out more (not to sound like a cheesy infomercial or anything). Possible Dean/OC?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well, hello there, lovelies! SO, I don't know if you actually really read this or not (because I'm guilty of doing just that when I read other fanfics on my own time) but this is my first story submission, like ever, so I'm plenty nervous. I definitely want people to criticize my work, so please feel free to do so.

Disclaimer to state that I do not own any of the beautifully flawed characters from Supernatural in this story: right above this line. The OC is mine because we share the exact same name. Other than her and my own account, I own practically nothing on this website.

Alrighty, that's all I have to say for now. Please (and I really don't want to pull an all-outer and end up begging here) leave a comment and say how I did and if I should continue this! No specific plans in mind for this yet, so have a blast :)

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"...what do we do with her?" I heard a gruff voice say somewhere to the left of me. I screwed my eyes shut tighter and let out an involuntary groan. My head felt like exploding.

"Dude, shut up. We're technically the ones that hit her in the first place," another voice said. I detected a hint of concern.

"Sammy, we should've just dropped her off at the hospital - there's no way she's gonna be glad that the two men that had run her over took her to their motel room."

That statement made my eyes shoot open. A harsh light greeted me, causing me to wince in pain and bring a bandaged hand up to shield my eyes. "Well, well, the princess finally awakens."

I whipped my head to the side and was met with sparkling green eyes. I frowned. "Who the f-", I croaked, before stopping. My throat burned like hell. A glass of water appeared in front of me, and my eyes traveled up its owner's arm to see soft, hazel eyes. "Here, that should help," he murmured to me.

My eyes narrowed suspiciously at the glass, and then back at the two men, before my thirst took over. I grabbed the glass with a slight nod to the brown-eyed one and proceeded to gulp it all down.

The effect was almost instantaneous. About two seconds after finishing it, I threw the cup at the brown-eyed man in front of me and flew off the couch. I vaguely heard a crash behind me and a loud curse, but my eyes were focused on the door.

I was just about to touch my fingers onto the rusty door knob when a heavy hand landed on my shoulder. I closed my eyes briefly and huffed. It would be useless to try and fight back; the two men were practically giants compared to me.

I turned around slowly - my hand lowering from the knob to lay limply at my side. The sight in front of me was astounding. "Castiel?" The name fell out of my flabbergasted lips. "Er, Misha?"

"Gesundheit. You know her, Cas?"

My wide eyes pulled away from the oh-so-familiar face in front of me to the two men I had previously known as my captors. How did I not recognize them before? Oh, yeah. Probably because of my almost-certain concussion.

I lifted a shaky finger to point at the pair, and then proceeded to turn my dumbfounded expression to the goddamn angel (or deranged actor, which I suppose might have been the more logical approach to thinking) standing next to me. "That's freaking Sam and Dean Winchester."

"Alright," Dean freaking Winchester boomed, simultaneously taking a step towards me. I wasn't fazed in the slightest. Alright, I was a little fazed. I mean, how could you not be when Dean used his big boy voice? "What in the hell is going on here?"

Castiel finally spoke up. His blue eyes pierced into my soul, it felt like. "This is Summer Origenes."

My name didn't seem to ring with the brothers - or, the highly disturbed Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, which is what the logical side of my brain pointed out on numerous occasions - so they just stood in a baffled silence, probably waiting on Castiel to elaborate. I didn't pay as much attention to it as I should have; I was just still in the process of wrapping my head around it all.

Of all of the Fanfiction stories I've read and AU's I've daydreamed about, it was actually happening. I was in the Supernatural universe.

Unless, it was just a dream. Oh, crap - what if this was all just a dream? A hallucination conjured up by my banged-up skull?

"I assure you, Summer. This occurrence is neither," Castiel suddenly said, still staring down at me with an intense gaze. I forgot he could mind-read. I wonder if he knows why I'm- "I was commanded by God, Himself, to bring you to this universe. For what reason, I am not entirely certain."

I guess he does. I then realized that my mouth was still hanging open, so I closed it with a snap. "So... This is all happening right now then."

"I guess so, sweetheart," Dean said with a wolfish grin. He swaggered over to me and held out his hand for me to take. "My name's Dean Winchester, but I guess you already knew that."

I took his hand almost shyly, which was so not normal for me. But, then again, everything happening to me right now wasn't normal. "Summer Origenes," I responded in kind, a smile curling onto my lips. I felt a sliver of my confidence stream back into my system, and I winked up at him. "But I guess you already knew that."

A smirk took over his face and he stepped back, our hands falling back to their respective bodies. "Sammy, I do believe we almost ran over the hottest girl from another universe I've ever met."

I grinned at his oh, so clever pun, and glanced over at the youngest Winchester just in time to see him roll his eyes at his brother. However, he followed Dean's previous actions and held out his hand as well. I took it instantly. "Don't mind him, he's always been a dog."

A chuckle escaped my lips. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Sam." He smiled in return. I let go of Sam's hand and stuffed my own into my jeans' pocket. "This is all great and dandy meeting my favorite T.V show's characters, but-" I looked up at Cas next to me. "-for what purpose? And why me?"

The trench-coat-wearing angel sighed. "As I had said before, I am not certain of my Father's intention for you, Summer. But I can only assume it was purposeful to place you before Sam and Dean's vehicle."

I held up a finger and shut my eyes, slowly but surely digesting the angel's words. "Are you saying that-that God _wanted_ me to get nearly run over by these two knuckleheads' '67 Chevy Impala? Because agree to disagree!"

At the mention of his car, Dean seemed to throw himself onto my side. "Yeah, what's up with that? I thought God was the good guy here!"

Cas looked like a deer caught in the headlights of oncoming traffic. I caught him murmur, "No conflict," to himself and then he disappeared before our eyes, leaving us with only the sound of beating wings.

I threw my hands up in the air, ready to protest and groan, then automatically regretted it. I was pretty sure my left wrist was sprained. How I knew that exactly, I wasn't entirely certain. The boys must've seen my pained look because, soon after, Sam pulled me into a nearby chair and Dean got started on praying to Cas, "Castiel, damn it, you can't just leave without fixing her!"

"Ah, it's alright," I said dismissively, gratefully accepting a water bottle from Sam. "It's not that bad. I can wait till he's done calming himself down after all that conflict he experienced."

Dean ignored my previous remark and instead eyed my swelling wrist with disdain. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just get some ice on that before it blows up." I glanced over to my side and tossed him the ice bucket that sat near me at the wide coffee table and he caught it deftly with one hand. I muttered, "Show off," and he shot me a wink before closing the motel door shut behind him.

And then there were two. I turned in my seat to face Sam sitting across from me; his legs so long that his knees would occasionally brush against mine. "I-" We both started at the same time. I sent him an apologetic smile and he responded with a shake of his head and a polite gesture for me to continue.

"I'm sorry," I said finally, nodding towards the mess I had made behind the couch. The glass glittered dangerously amongst the wooden floor.

Sam shrugged. "It's really no big deal. It's honestly something I would've done if I woke up in a stranger's motel room."

"Well, you guys are hardly strangers," I confessed with a timid smile. "I know almost everything about you guys and I still didn't recognize you. That was pretty bad on my part. But I honestly just blame it on the migraine."

He looked mildly amused by me the entire time I spoke, but a serious glint now took a hold over his eyes. "Yeah, it felt like we got you pretty bad there; almost scared us to death seeing you lying there, motionless."

I grimaced. "Did I-" I corrected myself. "Do I look that bad?" At the sight of Sam's sympathetic face and withholding silence, I huffed. My eyes trailed across the motel room and came to a stop at a slightly ajar door. The bathroom.

"I mean, you don't look _bad_ ," Sam offered helplessly as I got up from my chair and limped over to the door. Everything was starting to hurt now. But at least now I know what it feels like to be hit by a car. I can check that off the bucket list.

I grunted in response as I nudged the door open and flipped on the light switch. And I got to tell you - I looked downright appalling. A legitimate gasp escaped me as I took in my appearance. "How the hell did Dean say I looked _hot_? The goddamn liar!"

I was roughly aware of the front door opening and slamming shut. "Who's the goddamn liar?" Dean questioned, setting the full, tin ice bucket down onto the table. I purposely ignored him and tugged at the blood-stained bandage wrapped tightly around my head to reveal a nasty gash running alongside my hairline and down my temple. Black stitches were etched jaggedly across it in a zig-zag pattern.

"Don't touch it," Dean scolded from behind me. I glanced at his reflection in the mirror briefly, but continued to prod at my injury. "I touch what I want," I said tersely.

He gave me a disbelieving look. "You really gonna be like that, sweetheart? You're gonna break your stitches."

I stuck my tongue out at him, causing him to scoff and step through the doorway. The bathroom wasn't all that big, so I had to scoot over to the wall for him to fit. "I look like a goddamn ghoul," I grumbled, not fully aware if Dean heard me or not. He did.

"Nah." I watched him wave a dismissive hand. "The pale skin, dirty, ripped clothes, and bloody hair thing works on you."

I dropped my hands from my forehead and turned to him, laughing. "You're an idiot."

Dean only shrugged, chuckling. He turned to face me and leaned his hip against the counter. "Hey, almost forgot about this," He said, a small smirk playing on his lips as he held out a plastic bag full of ice.

I grinned and took it delightedly. "Thank you very much, good sir," I said, pressing the frigid bag gingerly against my wrist. An almost instantaneous relief washed over me - well, mostly my arm, but whatever - and I glanced back up at Dean. He looked rather entertained by me. What's with the Winchester brothers being amused by me?

I watched as the amusement in his eyes dimmed quickly, however, and concern grew in its place. I raised an eyebrow and immediately winced. A sharp pain was radiating from my temple.

"Damn it, Summer," Dean said gruffly, heaving an irritated sigh. "I told you not to touch it!"

Something dripped down the side of my face and he quickly wiped at it with his thumb. I could only assume that it was my own blood. I could feel his warm breath against my cheek as he took my chin between his forefinger and thumb to examine the damage. The stories were right - he did smell like leather and whiskey.

"Sorry," I muttered as he led me out of the bathroom and to one of the twin beds in the middle of the motel room. Dean cast a look at me and my pout over his shoulder and sighed again. "It's fine, just don't do it again 'cause I won't be the one stitching you up."

I nodded, my pout lessening slightly. He sat me down on the edge of the bed and pulled a duffle bag from underneath it. "What happened?" Sam inquired, getting up from his seat behind his laptop to stand beside Dean.

"She broke her stitches even though I had _told_ her not to touch them," his older brother replied, giving me a dark look. My pout intensified.

Sam laughed and my frown deepened even further. I picked at the sides of my nail nervously. I was unconscious when Dean had stitched me up earlier, meaning that I was pain-free. I've never had stitches before in my life; not to mention the fact that I've never even legitimately broken or sprained anything in my body before. This was the first time I've experienced real, physical pain and that scared me.

"So, guys," I started, now wringing my hands. I bit on the insides of my cheek. Literally dozens of my childhood habits were starting up again. How lovely. "Does, you know, stitches hurt? Much?"

Dean looked at me as he poured some alcohol onto a thin needle. "You tell me, sweetheart, you're the only one who's got them at the moment." He stopped what he was doing and cast a strange look at Sam next to me. "That's actually pretty weird-"

"Uh, agree to disagree, Dean," I protested, interrupting him unapologetically. "I wasn't exactly the poster child for consciousness when I got them earlier."

Sam sat down next to me and the corners of my lips tugged upwards at how his weight on the bed made me lean into him. I shifted so only the fabrics of our jackets brushed against one another. "Well, yeah, it kind of hurts a little at first," he said reluctantly. I started tapping my foot at an erratic pace. Sam probably noticed my increased anxiety, I suppose, because then he held up his hands to try and appease me. "But then the pain just lowers to, uh, being uncomfortable."

He really looked like he was just trying to help and I felt like kicking myself for being such a freakin' little baby in front of the Winchester brothers. I cleared my throat and nodded to Dean who was standing before me, needle and string all ready to dig into my skin. I was oddly a bit happy that the oldest Winchester had, at least, the decency to look bad for the pain he was about to inflict upon me.

"Alright, sweetheart," Dean said, watching me carefully as he kneeled onto the floor. I instantly noticed the enormous height difference. "Try not to move, okay?"

I nodded and a nervous laugh bubbled out of my throat. "Sure thing, buddy. I got you."

Dean smiled at me – well, it was more of a kind grimace, but who's noticing that small detail – and Sam put a semi-awkward hand on my shoulder. I then closed my eyes, awaiting the cold needle on my forehead. In actuality though, I noticed Dean's hot breath on my face first, and his chest leaning into my knees. Then it was finally his rough, but gentle hands on the sides of my face. I was suddenly not very sure if I was scared of his close proximity or the needle more.

I took in a trembling breath and he whispered, "Hey, it's alright. Relax," to me, and I smiled shakily. I won't lie, that was pretty loin-igniting, and in any other situation, I probably would've done…something hopefully confident and attractive in front of him. But I only clenched my fists tighter and set my jaw to the point that my teeth were grinding. Only one sentence was running through my mind: don't cry in front of Sam and Dean, don't cry in front of Sam and Dean.

And I thank the quite possibly missing God because, somehow, I didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, hello there lovelies! Wow, thank you so very much for the reviews and, you know, all of the views in general! I'll be totally honest with you, I didn't think anybody would like my story or even be intrigued by my bad summary enough to click on it, so imagine my surprise getting an email that contained my first story review ever! You, the mysterious Guest you are, literally made my day when I first read your review off of my smudgy phone screen. So thank you, because you were so kind and all compliment-y :)

Alrighty, I finally finished this chapter despite all of the homework that had piled up over the school week. I really hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

Disclaimer to state that I do not own any of the beautifully flawed characters from Supernatural in this story: right above this line. The OC is mine because we share the exact same name. Other than her and my own account, I own practically nothing on this website. :)

Ooh, and this'll probably apply to every other chapter that I'll write in the future: PLEASE leave a comment stating your opinion of my writing! I absolutely adore the nice ones, but also give me some criticism! I'm not a perfect writer, but I strive to be, and all of the nitpicking that you all are capable of doing would help me tremendously! So - yeah. Enjoy :)

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"Hey, what year is this?" I inquired suddenly, nudging Sam in the ribs just hard enough for him to pull his eyes away from his laptop screen.

It was late at night, and I was stuck here in a squalid motel room in an alternate universe doing the exact same thing I did back at home: watching a sappy rom-com in bed. The two characters were now sucking each other's faces, which I found ridiculously odd – I could have sworn that just a second beforehand they were threatening to kill each other. Romance movies, man.

"Uh…" Sam grumbled intelligibly. I was very impressed. "2009?"

I turned in the scratchy bed covers to face him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk playing on my lips. "Was that a question? Come on, dude, I thought you were the smarter one out of the two."

A chuckle flew past his smiling mouth and he ran a free hand though his floppy hair. I silently watched him, my mind racing through my internal Supernatural database. Sam had said that it was 2009 right now, right? Right. So, that makes this – what? Season five? I guess that would explain the slightly shorter hair.

Sam placed his laptop near the end of the bed and turned to face me as well. A grin was etched across his face. "No, no, I definitely am. But yeah, it's 2009. Why do you ask exactly?"

"Ah, well," I said flippantly, scratching near my sore stitches. The youngest Winchester brother immediately sent me a look that clearly meant 'Keep your hands away from your head injury or Dean is going to kill me', so I put my hand back down on the pillow I was resting it on. "Just gotta make sure, you know. There's a whole timeline and all."

"With the show," Sam commented, slowly trailing off. I gave him a small smile and then quickly noticed his begging, puppy dog face transition. My hand went back up to hover in front of his face. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Nope! I shall be the first one to deny your sad, pleading eyes!" I exclaimed, grinning widely. "I mean, I'm pretty certain I'll have more luck than your brother, that's for sure."

I felt, more than heard, Sam's rumbling laughter. A warm hand clasped my floating one and brought it down onto my lap. It left soon after. "Oh, come on, Summer!" I heard Sam protest. "An alternate universe? You can't not expect me to have some questions!"

I shrugged, nodding my head in agreement. "True." I opened my eyes again to be met with his pretty chocolate eyes. Why aren't my own brown eyes that nice to look at? It's literally not fair. "But, I mean, you've read and watched plenty of sci-fi stuff pertaining other universes. What if I accidentally tell you something so fundamental that I end up breaking this universe?"

Sam just sat there blinking at me for what seemed like a full half a second, then slumped. "Okay, I guess you have a point," he said, deflated. Was he pouting? Is that what he looks like when he pouts in real life? Six words: way too adorable for this world.

I sighed aloud. I always did break easily. Which is so not a good thing because it usually always falls under one of those 'Well, what can you do about it?' categories and nothing gets fixed down there. "Okay, let's make a deal." He turned to me excitedly, and besides the fact that he resembled the height of a skyscraper compared to me, he looked like a total nerdy kid in line for the newest video game. "Well, I'm fairly certain that it'd be alright to tell you that in 2009, Season Five of Supernatural came out."

"Well, what happens? Something big always happens at the end of a season, right? A season finale? What happens then?" Sam blurted out, shooting out questions before I could even take in my next breath.

I chuckled. "Hey, chill out, alright? I think I just need to talk to Cas about this for now, so I don't piss off God and his almighty plans for me or something."

Sam looked dubious and I continued. "Maybe I should set up a sort of policy. Yeah - okay, so first of all, I am in full control over-," I stopped short when Dean burst through the motel room door. I stared curiously at the oldest Winchester brother as his eyes bounced from me to Sam lying next to one another on the bed. A raspy chuckle resonated from his chest and spread throughout the room. "Well, don't let me interrupt you two," he said smugly. "You were saying something about having full control, Summer? Didn't peg you for being the dominant one."

I laughed, obviously a little flustered if the heat on my face had anything to do about it, but it was hilarious nonetheless. Sexual innuendos were totally my kind of funny. "Sweetheart, that's not my thing, but you can go right on ahead with Sammy here if that's what you really want."

Both brothers turned to me with complete and utter terror in their eyes and let out simultaneous noises of disgust. It only made me laugh more. If only Supernatural Fanfiction and fan art existed in this universe. Just imagine the endless amounts of blackmail that I could hold over their heads…

"Anyway," Dean said loudly, clearing his throat in an attempt to clear the awkwardness in the air. "Cas dropped by on my way to the gas station earlier." Just then, I noticed the full, plastic bags he had previously brought in and set down onto the coffee table. So that's where he disappeared to after he got done with my stitches; I had automatically assumed he went to a nearby bar.

"He stopped in with you and not the injured girl he had dropped in front of a moving car?" I scoffed and gestured to my limp left wrist. "What about this?"

Dean could only shrug as Sam gave me an understanding smile. I guess Sam's been treated with the same favoritism thing I just had with the angel. Oh, well, yeah. Duh. I mean, don't Cas and Dean have a more 'profound bond' and all? "I guess he's busy with Heaven stuff. Or maybe he's just shy around you specifically," Dean finished with a suggestive waggle of the eyebrows.

I snorted. My eyes seemed to be forever rolling in exasperation in the presence of Dean Winchester. "Cas doesn't have a crush on me, if that's what you're suggesting. That's just weird. I'm not an angel magnet."

Sam chuckled and I glanced over at him as he hopped off of the bed. He was now towering above me with a certain amused sparkle in his eyes. I was getting pretty used to that look from both brothers. "Ah, well, maybe you are, Summer. I mean, you did just get to this universe. You never know. Angels might definitely have a thing for you."

"Yeah," Dean responded in kind. Are they taking turns teasing me? Is that what I've been reduced to? "You're exotic." He said it with a dramatic flair and made jazz hands which made Sam and I both laugh.

I slid my legs out from underneath the bed covers and onto the cold, wooden floor. "You guys are so weird. Like, way weirder than I thought you two were from watching the show."

"Wow, thanks a lot, sweetheart," Dean said, rolling his eyes, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I smirked a little as I watched him take out all of the snacks he had gotten from the gas station. Once he was finished with that, he started folding the plastic bags. That was just way too much for me to handle.

"Damn, Dean, I didn't know you were capable of being such a Mom," I taunted, strolling over to him with my thumbs hanging from my belt loops.

Dean abandoned his actions and I heard Sam's faint laughter behind me. The youngest brother went silent however when Dean smirked at me and said in that deep, sexy voice of his, "I prefer Daddy, sweetheart."

Okay. There's some serious sexual tension going on here. Or is that just me? Damn, that was hot-

"Okay then!" I heard Sam clear his throat uncomfortably. "I'm just gonna - yeah."

I sniggered as I watched the youngest Winchester brother bolt to the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of his pink face as he rushed past me, and I internally 'aww'ed. It was adorable. Once the bathroom door shut, however, I barked out a laugh. "Dean, you scared your brother away!"

"You started it," Dean shot back, but he was laughing all the same. "Just get over here and help me with these."

"Yes, Daddy," I answered, biting back my laughter and watching him carefully. Dean didn't reply, he just threw me a hasty wink, with a cocky little smile settling onto his face. It was so uncharacteristic of him to not fire a witty (and quite possibly equally sexual) remark back at me that I just had to do something.

I walked up next to Dean and put a hand on his bicep. Maybe it was coincidental or maybe I just subconsciously wanted to feel his muscles, I'll never know. I smiled up at him with an evil gleam in my eyes. "Aw, did I make Dean Winchester all tongue-tied?" I pushed at his arm gently to signal for him to face me, and he did, to my underlying amusement. I brought my left hand up - the one that Dean had bandaged up himself, Sam had told me earlier - and steadily swept it across his chest. He had the pecs of a god, I swear.

"Do I make you nervous?" I whispered, only loud enough for the both of us to hear. I listened to his rough, ragged breathing and it made me want to take a step back, but I didn't. I did, however, attempt to turn down the extremely tense air around us by teasing him with his own joke, "You're not an angel, right? Because I thought I only attracted them."

Dean finally seemed to snap out of his daze and I brought my hands up to lightly tap his flushed cheeks. He then proceeded to not make any eye contact with me as he shoved a handful of plastic bags into my arms. I giggled softly to myself at his embarrassment, but didn't say any more about it. I didn't really need to.

Then we heard a crash come from behind the bathroom door. "Damn it, Cas! Stop doing that!"

Dean and I both exchanged a droll look at the sound. I had just tossed all of the folded up, little plastic bags on top of one of the beds when an irritated Sam stormed out of the bathroom doorway with an inquisitive Castiel in tow. "Hey, Sammy, didn't know you swung that way-"

His younger brother glared daggers at a snickering Dean standing behind me. "Shut up, jerk."

My eyes instantly lit up with joy. I was going to finally experience the immature and yet loving exchange of insults that only the Winchester brothers could pull off. I'm actually pretty ashamed to say that I've been silently waiting for a certain incident to occur for them to utter those very special words to one another.

"Whatever, bitch," Dean fired back, but I knew he said it with an underlying tone of endearment. I was fulfilled.

Once their customary transfer was made, they began talking about a case Sam had found while he was hidden away in the bathroom. I couldn't follow most of it, which was disappointing to me since I basically watched the whole show already, and I turned around. My eyes fell on Cas, and I noticed immediately that he was already looking at me as well. A bright smile captured my expression and I was ecstatic to see that he began smiling at me, too. It was a small one, more polite if anything else, but I gratefully accepted it.

"So, what's shakin', bacon?" I chirped, ambling over to the trench-coat-wearing angel. I shouldn't have been surprised by the response I got.

He tilted his head to the side and furrowed his eyebrows. I had to bite my tongue to keep from fangirling. "Bacon? I do not understand why you are referring to the cured meat of a pig's side, Summer. And I am certain that they do not shake. Unless they are moved by hand or machinery, of course, but-"

I let out a giggle and plopped down on the bed that he stood next to. "It's just an expression, sweetie, don't stress."

Castiel nodded pensively. "I see. What, might I ask, does it mean then?"

"I think it's really just a more imaginative way of asking 'What's going on?'" I replied, nibbling on my bottom lip and staring up at the ceiling in thought. "Now that you've mentioned it, it is pretty odd…"

I glanced down as I felt the weight shift on the bed. Cas was sitting beside me. The grin on my face just kept getting wider and wider with every passing moment. "Precisely my point. Sam and Dean never could quite understand my perplexity whenever they would mention such expressions. It is – relieving, I suppose, to be able to talk freely of the oddity of it all."

"I get what you mean," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Back when I was in college in my universe – and, actually, even in high school - I always felt like I was a little different than the rest of my classmates. I mean, I was one of them and as immature as they could be too, sure, but I just didn't quite get what all of the big fuss was about the newest phone, or, you know, the most popular 'it' item at the time. I guess I just never clicked."

Castiel opened his mouth to say something back to me, but was immediately shut down by Dean, "You nerds about done yet?"

I shot a glare up at him and he only offered his hands in surrender. "Just sayin', sweetheart, no need to get all feisty. Anyway, uh, Cas – can you work your angel mojo on Summer already? I'm curious to see what she looks like without all of the-", Dean gestured around at my bandaged head. "-you know, that."

"Thanks, buddy," I smiled sweetly up at the oldest Winchester brother. "I can always count on you for a self-esteem boost." He only winked at me, and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to strangle him or tackle him. You know, in a more nonviolent-sounding way.

"Oh, of course," Cas responded, swiveling so he could be sitting towards me. He held up his hand and I eyed it carefully. I've seen him do it plenty of times before in the show; I don't know why I was suddenly so anxious. The angel must've noticed my apprehension because he pulled his hand back a smidge and smiled at me in that miniature, polite way of his. "Don't stress, Summer," I beamed at his use of words. He copied me. "I won't hurt you."

And I believed him wholeheartedly.


End file.
